


A NCIS Drabble Collection

by MurphysScribe



Category: NCIS
Genre: Drabbles, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-04-26
Updated: 2012-04-26
Packaged: 2017-11-04 08:45:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/391954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MurphysScribe/pseuds/MurphysScribe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A bunch of NCIS drabbles, mostly lighthearted, some based on prompts from the LJ comm: NCISDrabble100</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Characters- Abby and Ducky  
Rating: K  
Ep spoilers: nope  
Characters: Not mine.   
Prompt: #91 Ice

The autopsy room was utterly still, the gleaming steel tables empty save for one body, stretched out and motionless.  Her ivory skin stood in stark contrast to the raven hair, fanned out around her in long waves.  Her lips were a blood red slash across her pale face.  Her makeup was smeared around her eyes and mouth in rivulets, perhaps attesting to some memory of tears or pain.  Her legs stretched out, limply weighted down by the tall, chunky boots she had always loved.

Her hands, stark white beneath the fishnet gloves she adored, were curved around a garish red cup of CafPow!, standing upright on her stomach like a sentinel, or some twisted parody of a mourner's bouquet.  Beads of condensation slid down its plastic surface, marking a damp circle on her shirt.

Ducky strode through the autopsy doors, looked up, and saw the table's grim burden.  
His tray of instruments clattered to the floor, from suddenly nerveless fingers.  It couldn't be!!!

With a shriek, Abby sat bolt upright, jostling her Caf-Pow so the sticky red liquid splashed her shirt.  
"Ducky! I didn't hear you come in!  This is the only place in the building the A/C still works. My mascara's melted off three times.  I'm dying in my lab!"  She looked down at her shirt.  "Oh man.  I'll be in the decontamination shower."

Finally, she took in his horrified face.  "My dear Abigail, I thought you were-"

She enveloped the flustered ME in a sticky hug, before bending to help him retrieve the fallen instruments.  "Aww, Ducky!  That's so sweet! I'm sorry I scared you!"


	2. Gossip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another from the NCISDrabble100 prompt list

NCISdrabble100 LJ comm Challenge #99 Gossip (works if you squint)  
Rating: PG-13 (innuendo)  
Pairing: Jimmy Palmer/Agent Lee  
Tags: Most of Season Four  
Summary: Agent Lee sprained her ankle! Did you hear?

Ducky and Jimmy Palmer were finishing up the autopsy of the strangled petty officer when Abby barreled into the room. “Hi Duck! Hi Jimmy,” she said. “I just ran into Agent Lee in the elevator. She's on crutches! She sprained her ankle on Friday night!”  
Jimmy made a strangled noise he hoped sounded sympathetic.  
“Oh, the poor dear,” Ducky said. “How did it happen?”  
“She said she was rehearsing a performance of Romeo and Juliet!”  
Jimmy fumbled and knocked over a tray of scalpels with a clatter.  
“Shakespeare? Our Agent Lee is a lady of many talents!” Ducky observed.  
Rummaging for scalpels, inches from the table he and Michelle had tumbled from on Friday, Jimmy fought to stop blushing.  
Many talents? They had **no** idea.


	3. After Hours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> McGee and Abby and an Ikea flatpack.

NCIS100 Drabble Challenge  
Prompt: After Hours  
Characters: McGee and Abby friendship  
Disclaimer: NCIS isn't mine, and I mean no disrespect to Ikea.  
Summary: Abby and McGee assemble bookshelves.

After hours of frustration, McGee had grown to like Abby's music. The assembly instructions were meant to be easy, all happy stick figures and bookshelf pieces that fit together. There were three bags of screws and nails and a bag of a washer-screw combination. There was another bag of shorter screws he was convinced didn't belong to the shelves at all. And they were missing the bag of little plastic doodads meant to hold shelves in place.  
The long particleboard rectangles that would eventually become Abby's bookshelves were strewn around her living room, with little linty bits of styrofoam still clinging to them.   
He and Abby had partially assembled most of one shelf, but it was leaning to one side (missing a hole for the supporting wingnut thingie.) Abby sprawled on the floor, typing furiously on an online help forum on her laptop, and intermittently rummaging through the battered toolbox next to her.  
She looked up at McGee. “This sucks. You and I are smart enough to hack the FBI and the Pentagon, and this bookshelf is outsmarting us, Timmy!” Her pigtails were askew, her bangs rumpled.  
McGee bit back a laugh at her pout. Suddenly, he had a mental image of Gibbs, shaping wood with his hand tools, down in the basement, shaping year after year of boats that fit together snugly, and would be seaworthy if they were ever launched.  
“We could call Gibbs?”  
She stared at the chaos of boards with renewed determination. “I bet there's a Gibbs rule about what to do when you have a screw missing!”  
McGee grabbed his cell phone. “Do you have any bourbon?”


End file.
